We are in Dar...again. We seem to be going to Dar a lot lately. That is OK. The kids and I have gotten the hang of it. We had to change hotels from where we used to stay. The new one doesn't have a swimming pool but there is a playground nearby. There is also a wonderful shopping area. That is when one can go shopping with three kids who LOVE to touch EVERYTHING in site. But, we manage. On our last trip we met a very nice lady who extended a hand of friendship that gave me hope and comfort beyond measure. We also ran into someone we had met earlier. He is a preacher from ARKANSAS! He was called to an international church here. They home school as well. Coincidence?? I think not. We "just happen" to run into them almost every time we come to Dar. Dar is a city of about 2 million and every time we run into them in a different place.
This trip we have the fortune of having some friends from the US visiting. We went to a museum on Wednesday but on Thursday we could not find them and my kids had to get out of the hotel. Lucky for us I am getting brave in my driving and my Sweetie left his truck for us to use. So, we went to an amazing shopping area that just so happened to have an awesome playground. Now, I really don't like the word awesome. Overused. Loved the song the first hundred times I listened to it but after we sang it in choir, and on a mission tour and...and...and. Overused. But this playground WAS AWESOME.
Let me put this in perspective. I have to resist the urge to be a helicopter parent. I could easily become one of "THEM". But I make a conscience effort not to be. In the US I would sit in close range of the playground to keep an eye on my kids and only try to intervene sparingly and quietly. I know that all along this trip that God has been protecting us and providing for us. So, the first night we arrived in Morogoro (the town we live in) we were exhausted and hungry and our friends swept us off to the local ex-pat hangout for pizza. "Come on," they said, "the kids will have fun," they said, "there is a playground for the kids." So we went. This was NOT a playground. This was a deathtrap discarded from playgrounds long ago. The ladder to the top tier is made of simple round iron bars. Any step ladder on the market is safer than this thing. When you reach the top there are no horizontal bars, only a hand rail. High hand rail, no bars to stop you from slipping in between and falling to the ground. The ground. Hmmm. The ground below. It is ground. Red dirt, rocks, roots. Ouch! But as I said, I was tired, hungry and completely disoriented. So the kids ran. And you know what!? They had a blast and not a sole was injured. How could that possibly be? They flew off the end of the slide, splat into the dirt, dusted themselves off and went for more. They jumped up and down and the structure survived. They went round and round on the merry-go-round with shrills of joy.
Back to the playground at hand. This is a certified, modern, western playground. Cushy rubber flooring, UV protection tarp overhead, not a screw or wire exposed and absolutely nothing made from discarded tires. There is a trampoline with a safety net, a fence that the best toddler can climb upon and still 1. not get out, 2. not make sway in the least. There is a bouncy castle and even a Step2 slide. There is an enclosed play place in the fashion of the best McDonald's playground you have seen. The attendant even spoke English and had a sweet smile on his face. (Most Tanzanians have sweet smiles on their faces. Such and incredible folk. We should take lessons :)
We were the only kids there for a while. Lizzie wanted me to come in and push her on the merry-go-round (complete smooth edges, plenty of ground clearance, molded plastic airplanes -- think Little Tyke). So I stayed on the playground. After a while (a LONG while) some other small children started showing up. Madeline was sooo cute. She tried soooo hard to speak to them. Every little kid that came in she said in a sweet voice "Jambo...Jambo", trying to make friends. The kids were little and there was no luck. She didn't get frustrated. She just moved on to the next kid that came in and tried again. Then two brothers came in. One was about 18 months and the other around 5 or 6. They were black but had on Spider Man shirts and Disney shorts. Not that you can't get those here but still, they didn't look like they came from here. Madeline again tried, "Jambo...Jambo" Then he followed her onto the trampoline. They jumped....and LAUGHED. It was one of the sweetest laughter's. Sheer childhood pleasure. Jump, jump, smiles, smiles, laughter.
P.S. Later I said "Hey, Madeline, Why don't you speak English to him?" Sure enough, he speaks perfect English. Probably Kenyan. Later she started playing with a few girls. One was black the other was an Arab Muslim from Tunisia who currently lives in Rwanda. What did they play? Well, run away from the growling boys of course!
Tanzania
Mikumi National Park
Thursday, June 23, 2011
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Nothing fancy
Madeline studied Iraq in home school last week. As it so happens, several of Laurence's co-workers actually re-built the power infrastructure in Iraq DURING the insurgency. I HAD to have them over and let her (us) ask them questions and see pictures.So I said, "Come over and I will feed you, nothing fancy." My first choice was pizza but when their schedule got delayed we ate the pizza and I made something else, BLT's and roasted potatoes. Nothing fancy. But living in Africa nothing is ever easy so here is what it takes to make BLT's in Africa.
First, the bread. Now you could go to the local store and buy bread. Heck, you could pick up a loaf from a table in town. Just a guy, sitting on a bucket, with a table-like structure selling loaves of bread. I have had that bread. It is good for bread crumbs. -----dramatic pause------ I make my own bread. I have been making my own bread since about a year before we moved to Africa so this is not out of the norm for me. Mix, rise, punch down, shape, rise, bake, cool. I'm used to it.
Second, bacon. You would think that in a country so populated by Muslims that bacon, or any pork product for that matter, would be hard to come by. Not so much. There are actually several kinds of bacon-like product to choose from. After trial and error we have found the one that most resembles that which we are accustomed. Streaky bacon. Good stuff. The thing is it is sold frozen...in 1Kg packages. That is a lot of bacon even if you are having guests. It takes about a day or so for 1kg of bacon to thaw. After all of that is thawed you have to cook the whole package. I only have one 12' skillet. But in the end I am left with some good bacon grease to make cabbage and even enough for milk gravy to slather all over some southern biscuits - not to be confused with British biscuits (ie. cookies) (to go with all of the left-over bacon).
Third LT, lettuce and tomato. The produce here is abundant and small, small. BIG BUGS. Small produce. Still it is abundant and cheap. We are thankful, not only for ourselves but for the locals. The only concern is ...well...the doodoos. That is what they call bugs. At almost 6 months my kids are just now not laughing every time we say it. All of the produce has to take a bath in bleach water. When we first arrived I even skinned the tomatoes. Too much work. Just let it sit in the bleachie water a little longer. (Many words in Swahili just have "ie" added to them - cabbagie, saladie, OK maybe just a few). I have to actually inspect every leaf of lettuce to clean the dirt off and check for doodoos. As I drain the water there is a crust of black dirt in the sink and a few beetles scurrying about. "Bugs, Bugs, get it Mommy" says my little helper.
Roasted potatoes. Have you ever gotten potatoes from anywhere besides the grocery store? They grow in the ground. They are caked with dirt. I used to get irritated when I would buy a large piece of meat with the bone and wonder how much I was paying for that I was throwing away. I wonder how much dirt I pay for and wash down the sink? Potatoes take two washings. First you run a sink of water and scrub, and I mean SCRUB, the potatoes to get most of the dirt off. Then I run another sink of bleach water and let them sit. I still peel them. Maybe I don't need the second rinse. Hhhmmm...I'll think about that. I go to the garden and get some rosemary - I just love rosemary. The lady who built our home was Italian and she had a garden in the back with my favorite. (Ahhhh...just being thankful for creature comforts.)
Drinks: I set out some bottled drinks, cokes, Kool-Aid (thanks NanNan), iced tea (thanks Emily who packed it and Sandra who brought it over) and milk for the kids. Milk. So thankful for milk. We have fresh (and I mean still warm from the cow fresh) milk delivered (in a used water bottle, we upgraded from the used juice concentrate bottle) to our door three times a week. Fresh. That means it has to be pasteurized. All that really means is that it has to be heated to a certain temperature and put into a sterilized container. SO! (I really use that work too much. Better than LIKE.) I clean a glass jar. ( I have broken three since we have been here.) I boil a pot of tap water on the stove, boil it extra long because it is tap water. I pour it over my milk container, lid and the spoon I am going to stir it with. Drain off all of the water. I then pour my milk into the pot and let it come to a boil while carefully stirring it - "Mommy, i have to go Poooottyyyyyyy." -- turn off the fire, put lid on so no doodooos fly in. Take potty trained but still not self-sufficient child to the bathroom. Re-light the stove, Yay!! It only took three matches this time :) Now, get milk to boiling for the prescribed two minutes. Place glass pitcher into sink and carefully pour it in. There is a little left so I pour that into a jar to make flavored creamer. (I haven't skimmed the cream off lately since I have been making flavored creamer. That is a whole other set of sterilizing and boiling but oh, soo good.) I won't go into detail about LT not using oven mitts and burning his hand or the time I was almost finished with this whole procedure and a FLY FLEW INTO THE MILK!!!! Ugghhh.
We have fresh milk and we are thankful. But even if I do skim the cream off the top it doesn't get all of it. When you don't get all of it it clumps in the pitcher. Clumpy milk. Chunks in your milk. Each time I pour a glass of this labor intensive milk I then have to pour it through a strainer for my lovely little darlings. My friend Joselyn told her kids to just get over it and they did. Good missionary kids. Not my precious little chickens. My friend Shonnas kids have to have their milk strained too. Thank-you for redeeming me my other missionary friend.
Desert. Are you kidding? I offered ice cream but the only takers where my kids and husband.
Tonight Katie and Andrew are coming over. We are having hamburgers.
First, the bread. Now you could go to the local store and buy bread. Heck, you could pick up a loaf from a table in town. Just a guy, sitting on a bucket, with a table-like structure selling loaves of bread. I have had that bread. It is good for bread crumbs. -----dramatic pause------ I make my own bread. I have been making my own bread since about a year before we moved to Africa so this is not out of the norm for me. Mix, rise, punch down, shape, rise, bake, cool. I'm used to it.
Second, bacon. You would think that in a country so populated by Muslims that bacon, or any pork product for that matter, would be hard to come by. Not so much. There are actually several kinds of bacon-like product to choose from. After trial and error we have found the one that most resembles that which we are accustomed. Streaky bacon. Good stuff. The thing is it is sold frozen...in 1Kg packages. That is a lot of bacon even if you are having guests. It takes about a day or so for 1kg of bacon to thaw. After all of that is thawed you have to cook the whole package. I only have one 12' skillet. But in the end I am left with some good bacon grease to make cabbage and even enough for milk gravy to slather all over some southern biscuits - not to be confused with British biscuits (ie. cookies) (to go with all of the left-over bacon).
Third LT, lettuce and tomato. The produce here is abundant and small, small. BIG BUGS. Small produce. Still it is abundant and cheap. We are thankful, not only for ourselves but for the locals. The only concern is ...well...the doodoos. That is what they call bugs. At almost 6 months my kids are just now not laughing every time we say it. All of the produce has to take a bath in bleach water. When we first arrived I even skinned the tomatoes. Too much work. Just let it sit in the bleachie water a little longer. (Many words in Swahili just have "ie" added to them - cabbagie, saladie, OK maybe just a few). I have to actually inspect every leaf of lettuce to clean the dirt off and check for doodoos. As I drain the water there is a crust of black dirt in the sink and a few beetles scurrying about. "Bugs, Bugs, get it Mommy" says my little helper.
Roasted potatoes. Have you ever gotten potatoes from anywhere besides the grocery store? They grow in the ground. They are caked with dirt. I used to get irritated when I would buy a large piece of meat with the bone and wonder how much I was paying for that I was throwing away. I wonder how much dirt I pay for and wash down the sink? Potatoes take two washings. First you run a sink of water and scrub, and I mean SCRUB, the potatoes to get most of the dirt off. Then I run another sink of bleach water and let them sit. I still peel them. Maybe I don't need the second rinse. Hhhmmm...I'll think about that. I go to the garden and get some rosemary - I just love rosemary. The lady who built our home was Italian and she had a garden in the back with my favorite. (Ahhhh...just being thankful for creature comforts.)
Drinks: I set out some bottled drinks, cokes, Kool-Aid (thanks NanNan), iced tea (thanks Emily who packed it and Sandra who brought it over) and milk for the kids. Milk. So thankful for milk. We have fresh (and I mean still warm from the cow fresh) milk delivered (in a used water bottle, we upgraded from the used juice concentrate bottle) to our door three times a week. Fresh. That means it has to be pasteurized. All that really means is that it has to be heated to a certain temperature and put into a sterilized container. SO! (I really use that work too much. Better than LIKE.) I clean a glass jar. ( I have broken three since we have been here.) I boil a pot of tap water on the stove, boil it extra long because it is tap water. I pour it over my milk container, lid and the spoon I am going to stir it with. Drain off all of the water. I then pour my milk into the pot and let it come to a boil while carefully stirring it - "Mommy, i have to go Poooottyyyyyyy." -- turn off the fire, put lid on so no doodooos fly in. Take potty trained but still not self-sufficient child to the bathroom. Re-light the stove, Yay!! It only took three matches this time :) Now, get milk to boiling for the prescribed two minutes. Place glass pitcher into sink and carefully pour it in. There is a little left so I pour that into a jar to make flavored creamer. (I haven't skimmed the cream off lately since I have been making flavored creamer. That is a whole other set of sterilizing and boiling but oh, soo good.) I won't go into detail about LT not using oven mitts and burning his hand or the time I was almost finished with this whole procedure and a FLY FLEW INTO THE MILK!!!! Ugghhh.
We have fresh milk and we are thankful. But even if I do skim the cream off the top it doesn't get all of it. When you don't get all of it it clumps in the pitcher. Clumpy milk. Chunks in your milk. Each time I pour a glass of this labor intensive milk I then have to pour it through a strainer for my lovely little darlings. My friend Joselyn told her kids to just get over it and they did. Good missionary kids. Not my precious little chickens. My friend Shonnas kids have to have their milk strained too. Thank-you for redeeming me my other missionary friend.
Desert. Are you kidding? I offered ice cream but the only takers where my kids and husband.
Tonight Katie and Andrew are coming over. We are having hamburgers.
Monday, March 7, 2011
Unplugged and Disconnected
Wisdom would say to have a good blog you should post frequently. I have blogs I follow and sometimes wish they would post more often because I just really would like to know what is going on. So why did I make one post and then drop off of the face of the earth without even a post on facebook? It is called TTCL and "power shedding".
TTCL is the name of the Internet provider, or should I say the part-time Internet provider. The story goes that someone cut down a portion of the line and they would have it up by the weekend. That was over a week ago. I am typing this from a hotel just in case you were wondering.
Power shedding is something Americans have only faintly heard of. You see, here in East Africa it is the end of the dry season. What does that have to do with power? Well, much of our power is hydro. No rain, no power, therefore it is rationed. They even have a schedule that is (Ha! Carter just tried to get up to go to the bathroom, got confused about his surroundings and opened the door to leave the hotel room. Good thing I am still up!) sometimes followed. My friend got an e-mail (really??? If you don't have power you don't have Internet, not that we have had Internet anyway!!!) that told us when we would and would not have power. Monday out day, Tuesday on, out evening, Wednesday on, Thursday on, Friday out evening, etc..
Which would you rather have, Internet or power? I chose Internet. You see the only thing that it really effects is Playing the Wii and melting my ice cream. Yes, we have plenty of dairy products. The ice cream is wonderful and my milk is delivered fresh to my door. REALLY FRESH, still warm from the cow fresh, but that is the topic for another entry. We don't have Air conditioning so that is nothing to get used to. Our stove is gas so we can cook. And truth be told I detest the Wii. Wish we would had never bought or brought it.
Being in Africa and homeschooling the kids and a husband who works way too many hours leaves me feeling a bit disconnected sometimes. We have made friends here and for that I am thankful. The kids have regular playmates and some friends that just show-up to play. I have a friend upstairs that is sweet and kind and I enjoy her company. But not being able to call my momma or my friends on the magic-jack and chat endlessly about nothing just reinforces the fact that I am half way around the world and so is my momma.
As I type this I am sitting in a freeing cold hotel room. Freezing because I am no longer used to A/C. But I am so happy to have Internet I may just see what is up on ONE TREE HILL or maybe I will call my mom!
TTCL is the name of the Internet provider, or should I say the part-time Internet provider. The story goes that someone cut down a portion of the line and they would have it up by the weekend. That was over a week ago. I am typing this from a hotel just in case you were wondering.
Power shedding is something Americans have only faintly heard of. You see, here in East Africa it is the end of the dry season. What does that have to do with power? Well, much of our power is hydro. No rain, no power, therefore it is rationed. They even have a schedule that is (Ha! Carter just tried to get up to go to the bathroom, got confused about his surroundings and opened the door to leave the hotel room. Good thing I am still up!) sometimes followed. My friend got an e-mail (really??? If you don't have power you don't have Internet, not that we have had Internet anyway!!!) that told us when we would and would not have power. Monday out day, Tuesday on, out evening, Wednesday on, Thursday on, Friday out evening, etc..
Which would you rather have, Internet or power? I chose Internet. You see the only thing that it really effects is Playing the Wii and melting my ice cream. Yes, we have plenty of dairy products. The ice cream is wonderful and my milk is delivered fresh to my door. REALLY FRESH, still warm from the cow fresh, but that is the topic for another entry. We don't have Air conditioning so that is nothing to get used to. Our stove is gas so we can cook. And truth be told I detest the Wii. Wish we would had never bought or brought it.
Being in Africa and homeschooling the kids and a husband who works way too many hours leaves me feeling a bit disconnected sometimes. We have made friends here and for that I am thankful. The kids have regular playmates and some friends that just show-up to play. I have a friend upstairs that is sweet and kind and I enjoy her company. But not being able to call my momma or my friends on the magic-jack and chat endlessly about nothing just reinforces the fact that I am half way around the world and so is my momma.
As I type this I am sitting in a freeing cold hotel room. Freezing because I am no longer used to A/C. But I am so happy to have Internet I may just see what is up on ONE TREE HILL or maybe I will call my mom!
Monday, February 21, 2011
3 months
I should have started this blog BEFORE we moved. Jennifer told me too. She even had a name picked out. Can't remember what it was but we agreed that we liked mine better. So, here we are three months later. You see, it's not that I am afraid of technology, I just don't really care. I would rather just spend time doing things I know how to do instead of learning new things. Then I stumbled upon my cousins blog and here I am.
This blog will be about our life here in Tanzania. To answer everyone's question, NO, we are not missionaries. My husband builds powerlines and we are here on a two year contract to bring power to the country. Only 14% of the country currently has power. This is not a figure I can wrap my head around. We have already had to deal with "power shedding" and my kids are just freaked out. They just can't understand the concept that we are out of power. They have even said "but there wasn't even a hurricane!" We go to church, we homeschool, we try to adjust to life in country where we stand out, can't speak the language and don't understand the things that happen around us. But we are trying, smiling and thankful for this wonderful adventure that God has called us.
I will try to back up and tell stories about our first impressions and other stuff but I am not making any promises!
This blog will be about our life here in Tanzania. To answer everyone's question, NO, we are not missionaries. My husband builds powerlines and we are here on a two year contract to bring power to the country. Only 14% of the country currently has power. This is not a figure I can wrap my head around. We have already had to deal with "power shedding" and my kids are just freaked out. They just can't understand the concept that we are out of power. They have even said "but there wasn't even a hurricane!" We go to church, we homeschool, we try to adjust to life in country where we stand out, can't speak the language and don't understand the things that happen around us. But we are trying, smiling and thankful for this wonderful adventure that God has called us.
I will try to back up and tell stories about our first impressions and other stuff but I am not making any promises!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)